Fish in a Birdcage

Rule #4 - Fish in a Birdcage

I am
In trouble with myself again
I am
In trouble trouble trouble trouble
I am
In trouble with myself again
I am
In trouble trouble trouble

But I do believe
There's beauty within
That's why I can't stop
Picking my skin
Digging for a buried treasure
Digging for a way for me to

Say goodbye
To the stranger on the other side
Say hello
To the bliss of a
Disembodied mind

I am
In trouble with myself again
I am
In trouble trouble trouble trouble
I am
In trouble with myself again
I am
In trouble trouble trouble

But I do believe
There's a reason to live
That is why I'm gonna go
To sea in a sieve
Get me soaked and squeeze me through
Till there's nothing left to do but

Say goodbye
To the stranger on the other side
Say hello
To the bliss of a
Disembodied mind

I am
In trouble with myself again
I am
In trouble trouble trouble trouble
I am
In trouble with myself again
I am
In trouble trouble trouble

And I don’t believe
We could ever agree
That’s why I’ll do anything
To keep myself away from me
Maybe when I’m out of sight
I’ll see me in a better light

Eyes shut tight
Better get this right
Every word of the spell
To rip the soul from its shell

Say goodbye
To the stranger on the other side
Say hello
To the bliss of a
Disembodied mind

I am
in trouble with myself again
I am
in trouble trouble trouble trouble
I am
in trouble with myself again
I am
in trouble

Credits:

Music & lyrics by Stephan Nance
Produced by Stephan Nance
Co-produced by Mathias Kunzli
Arrangement by Stephan Nance & Mathias Kunzli
Strings arrangement by Anna Fritz & Stephan Nance
Percussion arrangement by Mathias Kunzli
Thanks to Gabriel Kahane and Nevada Jones

Piano/synths/lead vocals/backing vocals - Stephan Nance
Percussion - Mathias Kunzli
Strings - Bizarre Star Strings (Anna Fritz - cello, Kyleen King - viola, Mirabai Peart - violin)
Bass - Jeni Magana
Backing vocals - Mathias Kunzli

Disembodied Mind

Lyrics:

I’m burning wick to fingertip with sage
from my shaky-shakin hands
Millie, what have you done to me,
my friend?

I’m tossin’ turnin’ in an open grave
coined-tongued with whatever I can save,
carrying hauntings of a brand-new age—
Millie, can’t you see I slide
planchettes with my wake?

Catch me walking with the ghosts again
Must be on that double dose, depends
Roman chamomile all down the throat, lift hands
In Michigan, the lakes all darken
Blackbirds flocking to and fro, sevens
Roots drag marsh over the floor, levelin’
Millie, can’t you stop them? You slow no omens
like exhaling, it never ends

I’m coughing up elderberry on the stage
like your sacrificial lamb
Millie, hypnotize pain away, I beg

I’m whisper-hissing notes on every slate
that I scribe and toss into the hungry waves
carrying itchings for a familiar ache
Millie, can’t you see I made a walking stick out of my stake?

Catch me walking with the ghosts again
Must be on that double dose, depends
Roman chamomile all down the throat, lift hands
In Michigan, the lakes all darken
Blackbirds flocking to and fro, sevens
Roots drag marsh over the floor, levelin’
Millie, can’t you stop them? You slow no omens
like exhaling, it never ends

Three redwing blackbirds outside my window
two fish heads at my door
What be this omen, I’ll never know
Millie, warm the kettle once more

Three redwing blackbirds outside my window
Two fish heads at my door
One kettle bubbling atop rusted stove but
Millie, warm the kettle once
Millie, warm the kettle once
Milly could you so please be 
a kind old dearie just for me
and warm the kettle’s tea once more?

Catch me walking with the ghosts again
Must be on that double dose, depends
Roman chamomile all down the throat, lift hands
In Michigan, the lakes all darken
Blackbirds flocking to and fro, sevens
Roots drag marsh over the floor, levelin’
Millie, can’t you stop them? You slow no omens
like exhaling, it never ends

Millie, Warm the Kettle

My man is a stagnant water,
a mud-your-linen, cacklin’ bogland
Waded in his iris to my knees
I bathed in his mouth overnight
We drank moonbeams from oily skies
Come dawn, he begged me, “Please, love, never leave”

Hmm, hmm
Hmm, hmm,

I have hands for building altars,
Lips to pray to reckless gods
Yeah, I was made to be a devotee
His mangroves held me ‘till died
My body’s relic left behind
To fossilize beneath the willow trees

Hmm, hmm,
Hmm, Hmm,

Thrashing like Ophelia in my featherdown coat
Won’t someone teach me to love without it swallowing me whole
If to be loved is to be changed, I’m only worsenin’
Mosquito larvae in my ribs
He only loves me when I rot with him

I’m my father’s stubborn daughter
And I am no gentle lover
Only crown I wear is loyalty
My man is a stagnant water,
a mud-your-linen, cacklin’ bogland
And I’m forever stuck his bog body

Hmm, hmm,
Hmm, hmm

The Bog Bodies

The Bog Bodies (Dorm Demo)

Lyrics:

If the double-row eighteen-cylinder
Air-cooled radial engine
Is not enough to tip you off
Before he slips you off the needle
Drops you into unstitched space
The wasteland which henceforth
Shall be referred to as “your place”

The captain lives by the sword
And the captain loves by the sword
When the captain dies by the sword
He'll leave you trapped in the cockpit
Crying out "Mayday!"

When a Scissor-tailed Flycatcher aerial courtship
Nosedives in a blitzkrieg from that Whiskey Delta
You can tell the backyard bomber
Never helmed a cargo crate
He croaks out undoing and doom
To the wishful safety net
You jeopardized your life to loom

The captain lives by the sword
And the captain loves by the sword
Once you elope with the captain
You'll leave on a sordid honeymoon
Trapped in the cockpit
Crying out "Mayday!"

Always the last and never the least
Always the fast and never the feast
Always the cult of domesticity
Always the jolts of electricity
Always surpassed and never decreased
Always amassed and never released
Always the past controls your mind
Never the peace you hoped to God you'd finally find

The captain lives by the sword
And the captain loves by the sword
And when he dies by the sword
He’ll reward you for your obedience
For your countenance has woven in at every turn

Even as the back, even as the back
Of the hand
Even as the back, even as the back
Of the hand still burns
Even as the back, even as the back
Of the hand still burns
From the last airstrike

Credits:
Music and lyrics - Stephan Nance
Piano/vocals/backing vocals - Stephan Nance
Programming/bass guitar/guitars/banjo/organ/keys - Josh Frigo
Violin/viola/cello - Yoed Nir
Double bass - Jeni Magana
Trumpet - John Lake
Trombone/bass trombone - Becca Patterson
French horn - Meredith Moore
Piccolo/flute/oboe/clarinet/bassoon - Josh Plotner
Percussion - Mathias Kunzli
Drums - Aksel Coe
Orchestral arrangement - Josh Plotner
Vocal recording engineer - Adam Sweeney
Mixing - Josh Frigo
Mastering - Alex Dobbert
Artwork - Rebecca DeMoss
Graphic design - Chad Lowe

Mayday!

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a lil bit folk, a lil bit cosmic, a lil bit whatnot... 
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Millie, Warm the Kettle

Rabbitology